


Unrequited

by romanticallyexhausted



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, More fictional crushes, Multi, Pining, The author is lonely, more characters will be added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22736899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticallyexhausted/pseuds/romanticallyexhausted
Summary: A series of my faves/reader or rather me. I thought it’d be kind of cringe to write it like that though, but please enjoy what I put out as a /reader anyways :)
Relationships: Kabu/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In which Kabu stops a suspicious Cleaner at his Locker Room

It was almost disturbing how much they had clutched the towel in their hand. Rough and red, with the Centiskorch pattern to boot. God, it smelled so much like him. The duality of a man; sweat and the raw scent of some luxury cologne. There were a lot of towels just like this one stored in the locker room just for the Fire Gym Leader to use, yet he seemed to stick to just this one for some reason. Maybe he thought it gave him luck. 

The worker holds it up to their nose either way and takes a small and cautious sniff. Because it feels stupid; because they know it’s absolutely ridiculous(and creepy). Maybe that was a good thing. It was always good to dream every once and awhile. Their dream was thinking that they’d be someone, be somebody standing by his side. 

It almost hurt, no, it did hurt. It burnt like a nasty flame spat out by a Houndoom, never to heal ever again. Maybe that’s what Kabu was to them. A sickening burn just waiting to fester and ruin them. Yeah. That seemed about right. That’s what it felt like. As they fold up the towel in their rough hands, they turn it over a few times in their palms. It’s comforting, at least somewhat. They scoff before shaking their head, bothered by their actions before turning to exit the room to go and wash the towel Kabu for the next set of matches tomorrow. 

“Are you just now leaving?”, they’re shocked out of their skin. 

“Yeah, did, did you need something?”, they stammer as they glance to the older man with a sheepish expression. 

He points to the towel just as they go to hand it back, “Right, sorry”, they apologize out of habit. 

“Thank you”, he speaks before giving them a long stare. 

They don’t like it very much because of two things: they feel like a cornered Pokémon beneath his intense gaze. Sweat makes their palms clammy and their mouth runs dry. Kabu gives them a small smile before removing those sharp eyes off of their frame. And suddenly, they remember how to breathe again. When had they been holding their breath? When had they been so anxious in front of their boss like this before? Arceus. 

Could you really blame them though?

For a guy his age, he was… built. Despite his small demeanor, he was strong and passionate. More so than most people with the same amount of years under their belts. 

“On second thought. You can keep it”, he decides before handing it back. 

“I– Thank you, Mr. Kabu, sir”, they say respectfully, but they worry if they sounded too respectful. 

They don’t want to kiss his ass or anything– yes they did–, they didn’t want to appear so pathetic in front of someone so… Kabu. 

Hands reach out to grasp the towel before drawing back. He chuckles, finding something funny, it’s them isn’t it? What else would it be?

“There isn’t a need to be so nervous, you know”, he reminds them. 

Obviously. It takes them a moment to regain their posture before nodding anyways and going to excuse themselves from the area, wanting to be alone with their thoughts. A gentle hand reaches out instead and manages to hold them still. They’re screaming. Internally, at least, they wouldn’t be so daft as to do that out loud. 

“I-Is there something that you need from me sir?”, they ask, finding it hard to make eye contact or to come up with something that isn’t “sir” or “mr.”. 

“...”  
“Nevermind”, he says with that damn smile. 

The smile that says he knows something when he doesn’t let on. The smile that makes them feel hot in the neck and strange around the ears. It’s something they aren’t used to: something totally foreign and they hate it. They despise this foolish feeling creeping up their spine and poisoning their heart. Because it isn’t fair. 

Because it wouldn’t work. 

“Have a good day, Mr. Kabu”, they bid him farewell as he does the same.


	2. Admired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is a security guard to clarify any confusion of their role here. That and they’re wearing a suit and tie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> G o d am I sad 😢

You feel the back of your neck singe with a festering desire. One that makes you black with rage, because you truly hate what he has gifted you. You don’t want to be the one to bear such a heavy burden that he doesn’t even know about yet. Or so you hope that he never finds out about it, the dirty little secret. 

_ Would he even care the way that I do? Would he even bat an eye or acknowledge it? _

Your eyes find the short salt and peppered head amongst the conference room and you make a point to shoot him the most bitter of glares. If he’s to know that you exist at all, let it be hatred that he sees, let it be anger that he feels. As far as he is from ever approaching someone with the likes of you, the reality of this lust is suffocating. The meeting is concluded there and everyone starts to leave. A few stay behind for friendly chit chats and you wish to edge yourself closer. 

You dream of the day to be along those ranks, to be as important and significant as any of the Gym Leaders of Galar. You wouldn’t mind being the lowest on the caste, because at least then you’d be able to call yourself one of them and talk to him. Kabu. Of all people to be smitten so terribly hard with, it was the old man. The old man! 

“Excuse me”

_ Oh no _

You blink back a moment too late, a second too soon and you’re met with those handsome black eyes. Your heart leaps into your throat as you furrow your brows to mask your true feelings. Your face wants to smile where your heart wants to frown. Standing before you is the ever-burning man of fire, and you’re cowering like a Charmander in the rain. 

“Do you have a problem with me?”, he asks, annoyance dripping like drool on his tongue. 

“I do”, you reply quietly, your jaw clenching reflexively. 

_ You must know… right? _

“Well? What is it?”, he prods while folding those strong arms of his. 

_ They must feel firm. _

“After everyone leaves”

“What?”

“Only then, will I let you know”

_ What  _

“Hm… so be it”

_ What did I..? _

Before you can take back what you’ve said, people start to leave. Your expression changes in the blink of an eye as you just realize what you’ve done. You want to scream, but blood rushes up to your neck and cheeks as you sigh. As much as you  _ didn’t  _ want to be alone with the Fire-Type gym leader, you were excited for it. Whether it was a good or bad feeling, was entirely up to how well you played your cards. He leans back against the wall and stands close to your stiff form. 

_ If this is hell, then I’ll gladly burn _

Eventually, the last few people pool out of the room and the doors close. It’s hard to breathe air as he turns to you and maintains eye contact. 

“So, what is it then? What have I done?”, he huffs, trying to study your face. 

“It’s because”, you start, but are unsure of where to finish. 

Your gaze falls to your shoes, his small ones in comparison to yours. You place your hand on the back of your neck before averting your gaze back up to the older man. 

“You cause me so much grief and you don’t even know it. I hate it, because I don’t understand it. Hah! We’ve never spoken before this, why are you even bothering with me”, you shake your head with sarcasm. 

“You’re someone who’s respected, admired, and strong. You’re passion is as powerful as your pokémon. I used to attend your battles, I used to watch you give it your all even if you’d lose. Your shoulders are never heavy and you keep going, like an unstoppable force!”, you cover your eyes with a hand as it all comes out. 

“Hey”

“Someone like you shouldn’t care about someone like me. So I think it’s best if you just–“

You’re pulled down by your sleeve, and your body complies, it yields itself. Your eyes are wide with surprise and fear. Your fearful of what he might do next, so you turn away. 

“It was never hate, was it? Liar”, he says softly. 

You can’t speak. You can’t breathe. Oh god, you can’t breathe. 

“Sir– Please, l-let me go”, you beg, oh so defeated. 

He doesn’t let you go. In fact, he gets closer. Your heart is fated to burst as he turns your head with his free hand and makes you face him. You close your eyes stubbornly, not wanting to see the amusement in those black eyes. 

“This is what you wanted… wasn’t it?”, he asks–  _ teases _ –, your trembling form. 

**_Yes._ **

Your silence speaks louder than you ever could as he rests his forehead against your own. He chuckled before pulling away and letting go of you at last. He heads for the door and you open your eyes at last, embarrassment painted on your face as he leaves. You turn to watch him go before falling onto the floor, your legs giving out from the scare he had pulled. 

“You… asshole”, you seethed. 

Once again, you go to cover your eyes. This time, you feel warm tears and you let them fall as you sob in the empty room. This is as close as you’ll ever be with him ever again, or so you think. That hatred bubbles in your stomach as you try to be quiet about the ache in your heart. You’ve been noticed and ignored: unsure of the future and what it could possibly hold for you. You weren’t accepted, nor were you rejected. There is hope, but… it is clouded by the unlikelihood.


End file.
